Suffering Enough
by reef17
Summary: For how long will the Crusades continue to haunt he soldiers that faught?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Suffering Enough  
Author: reef  
Rating: PG-13  
Characters: Ensemble, Robin, Much  
Pairing: None intended but it's there if you want it.  
Summary: For how long will the Crusades continue to haunt he soldiers that faught?  
Authors Notes: This is an AU and my first Robin Hood fic. I did a little research and found that the story line for the show matches up perfectly with the time line for the movie Kingdom of Heaven, and that the movie itself is actually quite historically acurate. So consider this a crossover if you like but most of the stuff about Hattin is actually considered historical fact.  
WARNINGS: Mentions/infers torture. War. I didn't intend for this to be SLASH but if you're into that then it's really up to you, it's there if you want it to be.  
Written: 9/06/07

Suffering Enough

Much looked over from the fire as his Master stirred again. He watched for a minuted but Robin didn't wake. The archer's face looked pained and Much new only too well what kind of dreams plagued his friend this night.

Looking around their small campfire, Much saw that he was not the only one who had noticed Robn's distressed state. Little John, noticing Much's scrutiny, looked away from Robin and sighed deeply, shaking his head. John had voiced his fears with Much before, wondering for how long the two young men would have to live with the Holy War plaguing their daily lives.

Much had wondered the same thing himself many a time. Every time Robin dreamed he could not get the thought to leave his mind.And those dreams, they were becoming more frequent. There was barely a night where, if he was awake, Much did not hear his Master quietly murmering in his sleep, shifting in the dry leaves. Waking too suddenly.

They had faught with Gisbourn's men just the day before and Much had seen something on Robin's face that he had not seen since the Holy War. They had not killed any of Gisbourn's soldiers but this ime it had been a near thing. And when the fight was over, it seemed as though Robin had suddenly awoken from one of his nightmares.

He turned his attention back to his Master and saw him arch slightly off he ground as if he were lying on a rock that was digging into is back. As he came to rest again his eyes shot open and his breath came to him in short sharp gasps. He looked around in cofusion before is eyes lit on Much beside him at the fire's edge and he visibly relaxed.

"Acre, again?" Much asked quietly.

Robin shook his head slowly but said nothing for a moment.

"Hattin... the camp." He finally replied, throwing an arm across eyes.

Much nodded without replying. Robin knew he did not have to explain further to his friend. He remembered all too well himself how the battle at Hattin had ended. He was not without his own scars from the Holy Land and many of those had come from Hattin by the Sea of Tiberias. They had only been in Jerusalem for two months before the death of King Baldwin, and with Guy de Lusignan made the new King of Jerusalem by Baldwin's sister, now Queen Sibylla, the entire Kingdom was disordered and devided. His Master had made the decision to fight with Balien, Barron of Ibelin, a man about heir own age and who seemed to share Robin's ideals for the land they now trod.

The Saracen King, Saladin had fought with experience that only comes from knowing ones own land. At Hattin, his army had struck as King Guy had ordered his troops in a move that took them away from fresh water. Devision amongst the King's favoured Barrons had cost them heavily that day. Balien's division had made up part of the rear guard but that had not spared them from a similar fate as the forward troops. Giant smokey fires covered the Saracen advances and soon the sands were soaked in blood. By the end, many of the Barrons and their knights had been captured and King Guy and his Templar Raynald had surrendered.

Nightfall had seen the two Locksley men still fighting beside Balien and his knights along with soldiers from the guard of Count Joscelin. The fires that the Saracens had lit during the day no longer bellowed smoke, instead lighting up their advancing attackers and Saladin had ordered his men back.

Balien had made the decision that they should rest for the night and retreat before dawn. Bone tired and almost literaly dead on their feet, no one had argued.

Come dawn however, when Much awoke, Robin was gone.

Much came back to himself as a buring log shifted in the fire, sending bright embers into the night sky. He looked down to find that Robin had drifted off to sleep once again. He did not stir when Much laid a hand on his chest and murmered his goodnights.

His own nightmares would not be of battles tonight but of waking alone before dawn that morning and of what Robin had told him of what he remembered when he was finally returned to them, six months later.

At daybreak the next day Much woke with a start, scenes from his dreams still echoing in his head. Scenes of Saracen slave camps and solid stone cells not tall enough to stand up in and not wide enough to lie down in. Of ropes and chains cutting into soft flesh, bloody wounds and seared skin. A wide-eyed, tortured soldier who barely recognised a brother.

He shook his head to clear it, only then noticing the warmth of another at his back.

"Are you alright?" Robin's voice came quietly from right behind him.

Much shifted so he lay beside Robin, shoulder to shoulder. He stared up at branches of the trees above, without really seeing them, "I should be asking you that, I think."

"I am alright Much." Robin replied, a slightly exasperated tone to his voice. He took a deep, shuddering breath and Robin could see the tension in the line of his back.

Much looked around at the others carrying on with their morning activities by the renewed camp fire.

"But Master... You are not." He spoke quietly. "Surely you see, it is getting worse not better. You barely sleep and when you do it is not restful, you barely eat... You hardley ever even want to go to Notingham to annoy the sherrif and Gisbourn any more. I mean surely, if nothing else, that would tell you that something..."

He finally stopped and took a breath when he felt Robin's hand on his back.

No words passed between the two men for a short time. Robin was unsure of quite what to say to reassure his friend. How could he, really, if he was not entirely sure of much himself anymore?

Robin propped himself up on his elbows where he still lay.

"I do not deserve this concern you have for me..." Much lifted his head as if to argue and quickly he continued. "But I am grateful, as ever. I don't know what to tell you. Yes, the dreams are getting worse and I cannot think why except maybe..." Robin paused, looking around, finally noticing their fellow outlaws who appeared to be listening intently to what should have been a more private conversation. They looked away quickly.

Much turned to look back at his Master, "Maybe what?"

Robin sat up next to his friend, staring intently down at his hands in his lap.

"Maybe... maybe I am supposed to suffer this way for all the blood I shed in the Holy Land." He finished quietly, standing up abruptly, walking off into the forest.

"Robin!" Much called out, but Robin did not look back, rather slumped his shoulders and hung his head as he disappeared into the trees.

"Was six months as their prisoner not suffering enough?" Much spoke to himself, his voice ceacking, not caring who heard.

End?


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Suffering Enough  
Author: reef  
Rating: M  
Characters: Ensemble, Original character  
Pairing: None Summary: For how long will the Crusades continue to haunt the soldiers that fought?  
Authors Notes: This is an AU and my first Robin Hood fic. I did a little research and found that the story line for the show matches up perfectly with the time line for the movie Kingdom of Heaven, and that the movie itself is actually quite historically accurate. So consider this a crossover if you like but most of the stuff about Hattin and the Siege of Acre is actually considered historical fact.  
WARNINGS: Mentions/infers torture. War. Mass murder.  
Written: 26/06/07

Suffering Enough

Chapter 2

"To kill an infidel is not murder! Those who seek forgiveness for their mortal sins and have not received such must pay homage to God as they have fallen out of favour with the one true Lord. And they shall follow this servant of God to the Holy Land to beg forgiveness at the gates of Jerusalem and if not, give up all they're worldly belongings to support those who would make that journey."

The man who preached as he walked through the village of Nettlestone was dressed in heavy draping robes of lush fabrics, bright white material crosses shone in the morning sun. The glinting jewels on his fingers caught people's attention and they flocked to him as if he were their salvation from the tyranny of their daily lives, the reflections brighter sparks of hope than the words he spoke to those who had so little.

A murmur quickly spread throughout the village and soon the preaching man was stood on a low-standing table that the blacksmith's apprentice had pushed out into the town centre for him. A small coin had been handed over surreptitiously to the boy in exchange for the coal pot that now sat on the table. Three lonely coins sat dully in the bottom, so far, all the villagers had afforded.

One or two of Nettlestone's orphaned boys had signed an _X_ beside their names as the preacher had inscribed them on the parchment he carried in his sleave.

Will and Alan watched as another ill-afforded coin was dropped into the coal pot. The look on the cooper's face as he did so showed the outlaws exactly the reason for the 'donation', as the barrel maker was stared down by the preacher, a look of guilt came over the poor man's features. He shuffled off.

"Orphans forsaken by God will find peace in the welcoming arms of God as they enter the Holy City…"

The two outlaws turned to each other before silently climbing down the back of the small hill that overlooked the village, the drone of the preacher drowned out as they put distance between them and the edge of the town.

"They can't afford that! No one can!" Alan exclaimed as soon as they were far enough away. "As if the Sheriff's taxes weren't enough, I mean, common, he may as well be asking for the food off their tables, that's if they hand any to be taken."

"The King has to pay for his Crusade somehow," Will said quietly, "but there is nothing left to give." He agreed with his friend yet he was torn between fighting for his people and supporting his King. But what good was supporting the King in a war in another land if there was no longer an England for their leader to return to?

The two walked on lost in their thoughts for a while before Alan spoke again, "If those boys go to war, they will not return." He said with uncommon conviction. "They may not have families here but no village under Nottingham can afford to lose anymore men. We should tell the others, Robin should know."

………………………………..

"Who's this preacher again?" Robin asked as he slung his bow over his shoulder, a confused and worried look darkening his face.

"Well we didn't catch a name, but the rings on his fingers would have fed Nettlestone for a year, not to mention the robes he was wearing." Alan told him. He kicked at the fire-pit as he spoke, putting out the last embers and covering it with leaves to leave no trace. "He was calling for people to follow him to the Holy Land. The coins were more out of guilt than anything else though."

"I doubt he would have got much, there's little left to give." Little John said as they began the trek toward the village in question.

As they walked through the trees to the side of the all too well-travelled road, Robin thought over the information. "Will, go on ahead. Find out if this preacher's still at Nettlestone, if not, find out where he's going next."

Will nodded and pulled his hood over to disguise his face as he took off through the undergrowth.

"The King's Court in the Holy Land needs no support from us or these villagers. There are riches in those lands that are beyond imagination." Robin paused, thinking. "The Lords and Earls return to gather knights and troops for their battles, not the church. The church preaches forgiveness within the walls of Jerusalem, it gathers followers for the pilgrimage but it doesn't sign up orphans to fight a war." He spoke his thoughts aloud though seemingly only to himself, as if trying to put some order to them.

"Something is not right." He knew it. He picked up his pace.

………………………

They had not been walking yet an hour before Much noticed Robin stumble slightly on an exposed tree root. No one else had seen, but they had not been watching for it.

Much knew his friend was still exhausted, he had continued to watch him sleep over the last few days and the dreams had not eased. There was a change though, Robin's cries whilst he slept were no longer those of pain and suffering, now it seemed as if his Master were pleading, begging for… for something… life. They had not spoken again about the matters but Much at least made sure the already lean man continued to eat.

It was almost as if all five years they had spent in the Holy Land had been replayed in his Master's dreams over the last week or so, and Much could not say it was not also taking its toll on him either.

A shrill whistle broke the air and the outlaws quickly found cover. A few seconds later, Will appeared amongst them and they read his easy stance to mean there was no immediate threat. Robin broke cover first and could see that Will was slightly out of breath.

He took a ragged breath before speaking, "He's left Nettlestone. Little John was right, he didn't get much, and there are two boys from the village travelling with him." He took a more steady breath as Robin waited for the rest. "He's headed this way, about a mile behind me."

"Saving us the trip, that's good of him." Alan brightened at the idea of the upcoming opportunity for mischief.

"We might even get camped in time for dinner." Much smiled, already thinking over his supplies, rubbing his hands together.

Robin gripped Will's shoulder in thanks as he turned to look at the road beside them, judging the best spot for an ambush.

"The cutting. Before the road splits to Nottingham and Loxley." The archer told his men. The outlaws nodded, heading out now with a purpose.

Robin looked one more time in the direction their quarry was travelling from.

"Let see just who you are, Your Grace."

……………………………..

Hoods pulled low, barely inches between them as they walked, a loud conversation drifting away from them, Will and Alan made their was along the Nettlestone Road, seemingly oblivious to the horse-drawn carriage approaching in front of them. They looked up as the horse whinnied and its master called it to a halt.

"Move if you will. As God is my witness I travel to Loxley to do the Lord's work." A deep voice called out to them. One of the Nettlestone boys was at the reigns whilst one stood beside the horse, wooden crosses hung about their necks, their eyes were downcast. The preacher stuck his head out the carriage door.

Robin looked up sharply at the voice. He was still hidden behind the cutting but there was something familiar about the voice and a face immediately came to mind. _Impossible!_

"Are you deaf? I said I have the Lord's work to carry out in Lox…" The preacher trailed off as Will and Alan dropped their hoods and allowed their weapons to show from beneath their cloaks. The preacher gaped like a fish as more outlaws appeared around the carriage.

Robin cleared his thoughts for the moment and, keeping his hood down so his face was completely obscured, he stepped on to the road in front of the preacher.

With one hand resting on the top of his bow the other on the hilt of his sword, Robin spoke.

"I think you have business here with us at the moment, Your Grace, but please, enlighten us." There was a hard edge to Robin's voice that no one had expected. "What part of the Lord's work exactly are you here to carry out this time?"

He had identified this man in front of him. Impossible as it seemed, his recent nightmares seemed to have solidified into the face before him. The face of a man he had sworn vengeance against if he ever laid eyes on him again.

In one fluid movement the tip of Robin's curved Saracen sword was at the Holy man's throat and a small trickle of blood was running down his neck, staining the ornate robes.

"Collecting more lambs for the slaughter?" Robin gestured with his bow to the two orphans. "Or are you collecting money to fund your own private war back in Jerusalem?" Robin stepped back, his sword still pointing toward the man's neck. He pulled back his hood, revealing his face. "Because surely King Richard would not send an excommunicated priest to raise funds that he does not need, Terric, _former _Abbot of York."

"_You!_" The once holy man hissed, darting forward before pulling up at the sharp sting of Robin's sword at his throat again.

………………………………..

Terric of York sat, hands bound, against the wheel of the carriage, Will and Djaq were removing everything of value from the carriage, the former abbot of York having already been liberated of his trinkets, and were securing them to the horse, now free of its burden.

"You're nothing but a thief Loxley. Taking from funds what would go to support troops in the Holy Land. Look what you've become. Pathetic!" The bound man had not stopped cursing at Robin since he had been forced to his knees in the dirt. Mud seeped into the already heavy material.

"If I believed for one moment that this money was going to support anyone but yourself in the south, maybe then I would be a thief. But at least I would not be a murderer like you." Robin bared his teeth as he spoke to the former Abbot, true hatred in his voice.

"No, you are the true thief here. Steeling the lives of these boys." He point to the Nettlestone boys without taking his eyes from Terric's face, "Just like you stole all those innocent lives at Acre. How many were there, Terric? How Saracen prisoners did you order be killed?"

Terric stammered and stumbled, trying to find an answer. Right now, he was truly scared of the man in front of him, leaning down, in his face.

"King Richard…"

"No!" Robin shouted in his face, now making his own men nervous.

"Not King Richard. You! You made the decision for him and he had no choice but to save face. Do you not remember how many? Shall I remind you?"

Robin took a step back, staring at the man below him. Finally he looked up at Djaq, saw the shine of new tears in her eyes as he spoke of her people.

"All of them." Robin said quietly. "Two-thousand, seven-hundred men, women and children."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Suffering Enough  
Author: reef  
Rating: M  
Characters: Ensemble, Original character

Pairing: None  
Summary: For how long will the Crusades continue to haunt the soldiers that fought?  
Authors Notes: This is an AU and my first Robin Hood fic. I did a little research and found that the story line for the show matches up perfectly with the time line for the movie Kingdom of Heaven, and that the movie itself is actually quite historically accurate. So consider this a crossover if you like but most of the stuff about Hattin and the Siege of Acre is actually considered historical fact.  
WARNINGS: Mentions/infers torture. War. Violence.  
Written: 24/07/07

Suffering Enough

Chp3

Time stood still. No breeze blew, no leaves crackled and barely a breath was taken. A single tear made its way down Jack's face as she clenched her fists, trying to hide the tremors that started there.

Only the clouds, it seemed, continued to move, covering the sun as if to match the mood of those on the road that afternoon.

Robin stood still, his face seeming as pale as the clouds above and his stance as if he would fall to his knees at any moment. The anger had drained out of him and a look of brokenness had replaced it. Broken from the inside, from something that would not leave him, something that he could not change and could never forget.

He leaned himself up against a road-side tree and slowly slid down until he rested against its old roots.

Much opened his mouth as if to speak but stopped. Without warning a wind had picked up and brought with it a sound all too familiar and not at all welcome.

Horses.

Horses with riders.

Soldiers.

Almost as one, the outlaws drew their weapons, scanning the road and the forest for the direction of the threat. In the distance, riders in black appeared around a bend in the road from Nottingham, their speed unchecked. The men of the forest moved into defensive positions, knowing yet full well they were outnumbered and ill-equipped for a battle with the Sheriff's men.

Robin, now back on his feet and with vengeance clear in his mind, grabbed the once-abbot again by the front of his muddied robes and dragged him to his knees.

"_Robin!_" Much called to his master urgently, the hoof-beats growing steadily louder as the mounted soldiers gained on their position.

Robin hesitated, looking up to see his men battle-ready and willing to fight. Weapons held high, no doubt I their minds about what was to come. He looked down again, and Terric could see the indecision clear on his face.

"You did not think I would come here without visiting the Sheriff first did you?" Terric asked him in a quiet, pious voice, all fear gone from his eyes. "I have a 'business arrangement' with the good Sheriff of Nottingham that I could not go back on, after all."

"_Robin!_" The closer the soldiers came the more their numbers seemed to grow in Much's eyes. "We can not stay here. There are too many."

"He's right lad, this'll not be a good day to die." John spoke up without turning away from the approaching cavalry.

Robin shook the ex-holy man in anger. "What arrangement? Tell me!" He yelled.

"Why, troops of course." The scream of an arrow cut the air and landed with the sound of an axe splitting wood in the door of the carriage.

The two boys from Nettlestone bolted back the way they had come.

"I help Vacy by keeping the King for as long as possible in the Holy Land and in return, I take with me every prisoner he has back to Jerusalem." Terric spoke with a smile, knowing the more he angered Locksley the longer he would linger and the more chance there was of him becoming one of those prisoners himself.

"No!" With sudden clarity Robin dropped the man to the ground and turned to face the oncoming troops. His men were right, they could not stay. They were already moving away into the forest before he called for them to move and more arrows began to rain down on the road where they had stood. With a last contemptuous glare at Terric he was moving with them.

They were just shy of the top of the hill on the Locksley side before the first rider was amongst them. The soldier charged his horse through the middle of the group of outlaws, aiming for the outlaw leader. Robin dropped and spun, nocking an arrow and standing two more in the earth. He let one arrow fly toward the next rider as he heard the squeal of the first rider's horse as his men took it to ground.

Another rider took a swing with his sword as he rode passed Robin but he was out of range and Robin aimed bow at the next. Two more riders went down in quick succession before he was forced to change position and draw his blade. He dodged another charge and found himself back to back with Much, their swords held low and ready, double-handed grip steady and ready for the next attack.

As they circled he could see Will and Alan in similar positions, weapons ready, and Little John by himself keeping near to a large oak to protect his back and keeping his staff at the ready for the front.

Three more riders charged before Robin sighted Djaq a short way off from the rest of his men.

He only had time to dodge and swing as another mount passed. His blade severed the saddle girth, sending the rider to the round and the horse off into the forest at full pelt. John took another down, taking his staff to the charging rider like an immovable tree branch just as Alan pulled the third from his horse and knocked the pommel of his sword square into his face. The riderless horse continued on and Robin saw Much throw himself clear of it's path, its flank brushing his shoulder as it passed.

Djaq was not so lucky. A soldier had singled Djaq out yet she had been underestimated and had easily overpowered him with speed instead of brawn. Doing the same as Robin, she cut the saddle girth as she slipped past the rearing horse. Slapping it on the rump with her sword it had taken off and left its rider on the ground at her feet. A swift kick to the side of his head rendered him unconscious, still sitting in his saddle.

She turned at the sound of beating hooves but wasn't quick enough. The terrified horse knocked her to the ground, unconscious. As her comrades moved to shield her they found they were cut off by yet more riders. They had cut their opponent's numbers in half by now yet they were still outnumbered.

They stilled as a line of chain mail-clad archers appeared above a rise behind the mounted soldiers, arrows at the ready. The familiar form of Gisbourn appeared to one side, mounted on a tall horse. Terric smiled slyly from down beside him, holding a cloth to his bleeding neck.

Breathing hard and knowing they stood no chance at moving forward to help Djaq, Robin cursed silently with no choice but to watch as a soldier lifted their friend onto the back of Gisbourn's horse.

"Missing something Locksley?" Gisbourn called out, goading the outlaw.

"_No._" Robin seethed through clenched teeth. _"No!."_

Will took a step forward but was stopped by an arrow fired into the dirt at his feet.

Alan tried the same but was again stopped short, several arrows fell at his feet and one tore at the sleeve of his tunic.

"Stop, we can't help her this way." Little John grabbed Alan's shoulder to keep him in place.

"Gisbourn! What do you want?" Robin called out, torn between the desperation of saving Djaq and the common sense of keeping the rest of his men safe.

"Want? Locksley? I already have more than I expected from this… meeting." Gisbourn sneered, running a gloved hand down the outside of Djaq's leg.

Little John tighten his grip on Alan's shoulder and took to Will in the same fashion.

Much could only prey that she did not remain unconscious for too long.

Gisbourn laughed, knowing the response his action was earning. "Archers ready!" he called, loud enough for the outlaws to know what was coming. He aimed a cruel smile in Robin's direction, lifting his arm in the air.

Pushing Much back with one hand, Robin yelled to his remaining men, "Go! Split up. Will, with Allan. Much, go with John. Do not go back to camp. I will find you."

Once again the arrows bit the ground where they had stood and followed as they fled.

TBC


End file.
